Tracey Thorn

One half of Everything But The Girl on the records that taught her how to be “radical and moving”. Good haircuts a bonus...

DIANA ROSS I’m Still Waiting 1970

I first heard this when I was about 10 years old. I remember lying on a tartan blanket sunbathing in the garden, listening to my transistor, and it came on. That first line: “I remember when I was five and you were 10/ Boy, you knew that I was shy, so you teased and made me cry/But I loved you…” The idea that children could be in love, that their feelings could matter and last, blew me away. Her voice just shimmered out of the radio, and the arrangements are all sophisticated strings in that pre-disco ’70s pop/soul vibe.

BILLIE HOLIDAY Lady Sings The Blues 1956

I got into Billie Holiday when I was about 17. I’d been mostly listening to punk and postpunk records, and then I heard her voice, and it really resonated with me, and with the way I was starting to sing myself. Something about her restraint and her vibrato, and that undertone of suffering infused with resilience. This album’s got amazing standards on it, and then in the middle sits “Strange Fruit”, which never stops being shocking, and made me realise there were loads of ways other than punk to be radical and moving.

PAULINE MURRAY AND THE INVISIBLE GIRLS Pauline Murray And The Invisible Girls 1980

I’d loved Penetration, and then when this came out it seemed so in sync with the times. Produced by Martin Hannett, it had guitar from Vini Reilly, and John Maher from the Buzzcocks on drums. It’s full of synth-poppy songs, with sweeping cinematic choruses, and got me excited about the kind of pop coming out of northern cities and sounding so fresh and imaginative. She also had the most beautiful haircut at the time.

COCTEAU TWINS Head Over Heels 1983

By the time this came out I was in Hull, and starting to work with Ben [Watt]. I went to see them play at the Haçienda in Manchester. Elizabeth Fraser looked incredibly nervous, and halfway through the gig she lost her voice, burst into tears and left the stage. I’d been doing gigs with the Marine Girls where I’d throw up before, so I knew all about the terror. This has lots of my favourite songs on, especially “Musette And Drums”; there’s something martial about the beat and the guitars, with her voice floating on the top.

DUSTY SPRINGFIELD Cameo 1973

Dusty Springfield was always there when I was young, but I didn’t hear her properly ’til about 1980, when Elvis Costello did a radio show and introduced me to Dusty In Memphis, which became one of my favourite records. But I only discovered Cameo more recently. It came out in 1973 and was a complete flop, which is just extraordinary. It’s full of amazing songs – she does a great cover of Van Morrison’s “Tupelo Honey”, and there are other songs by Alan O’Day and Ashford & Simpson.

MASSIVE ATTACK Blue Lines 1991

This defined a moment, bringing new things to the table in terms of what was possible within what was called dance music. Slowing beats down, leaving loads of space, mixing up the vocals… There was Horace Andy singing, 3D and Daddy G and Tricky rapping, and then Shara Nelson. When I came to work with Massive it was her shoes that I thought were the hardest to fill. Not just the way she sang, but the words she sang – “Like a soul without a mind/In a body without a heart/I’m missing every part…”

LIZ PHAIR Exile In Guyville 1993

This was a record I heard in 1993 during that period when EBTG were coming back to life. We’d run out of ideas a bit at the beginning of the ’90s, then Ben got very sick. In the aftermath we had something of a new lease of life, both literally and creatively. I went to see Bikini Kill and Huggy Bear, who reminded me of the feminist post-punk bands I’d loved. And when this came out I saw Liz Phair play live in New York, and loved the brisk minimalism of her approach. It’s full of female honesty and openness.

SADE Lovers Rock 2000

Sade is no stranger to taking long breaks between albums, so I feel a kinship with her there! The older I get, the more attached I feel to her voice, and the more I think she’s underrated as an artist when the history of British music is told. We were recording Eden in the same studio when Diamond Life was being recorded – by the same producer, Robin Millar – and I do remember feeling slightly awed by the whole group of them, all so beautiful and cool. This album of hers is lovely.